Finding my Way
by Aa-chan
Summary: A face from the past is haunting June. For Cynthia's June romance contest.


**Finding my Way**

_By Aa-chan_

_  
A/N: Blah. I'm not sure if I like this one or not... It's hard writing about characters that have virtually no connection. Anyways, the coupling in this story is June/Sam and this is an entry for Cynthia's June romance contest. Tell me what you think._

My room is perfect. It's painted in pink and white, which makes it look softly feminine, the way I like to think of myself as. It's always neat and orderly, even with the posters of various celebrities taped onto the wall. It's comfortable and usually has a calming effect on me; it makes me feel safe.

Right now, though, I feel vulnerable, frightened, and, well, depressed.

I'm huddled into a little ball at the end of my bed, my knees pulled to my chest, and I'm rocking back and forth slightly. My face, chest, arms, and hands are all wet with salty tears.

I thought I had gotten over that event. I thought I had managed to put Sam out of my mind—but then Davis walked in, along with his new friend, Sam's brother.

Oh, sure, there are obvious differences in the way they look, but something lay beneath Ken's gaze, the same thing the laid beneath Sam's. Something gentle, and kind.

Davis would probably laugh if I told him the truth about Sam and I; that we were in love. He doesn't take me seriously. Not that I blame him—after Sam…passed on…I sort of threw myself into the social circle, flirting with boys I barely even knew. People tend to see me as a bit of a ditz, I think, but I don't mind. It keeps me from remembering.

-

_Sam and I walk hand-in-hand down the street. I bask in the way he makes me feel—so incredibly important, like I really matter. When he sees me, his eyes will just light up so brightly and he will give me that crooked grin of his. The only other one I ever saw him look at like that was his little brother._

_ _

_It's a beautiful day, one that seems to reflect my mood. It's bright and sunny without being overly hot, and it seems the whole city is feeling cheerful today. And here I am with my first true love—what could be better?_

_ _

_We approach his apartment building, on the other side of the street, and see Ken watching us expressionlessly from the parking lot. We wave, but he doesn't seem to notice—he seems a bit preoccupied._

_ _

_Sam, blushing furiously, gives me a peck on the cheek and starts to jog across the street, waving back at me. He hasn't said that he loves me yet, but I can tell he does just through his actions. It's adorable._

_ _

_From the other side of the road, Ken suddenly yells. Startled, I follow his gaze to see a huge truck, dirty and rusty, heading straight for Sam. I cry out to him, pointing. He turns and sees it, his beautiful blue eyes widening in stark terror. His arms fly up in reflex to shield himself, and the driver finally sees him and begins honking his horn wildly, trying to brake. He screams, the sound mingling with that of the horn and the screeching brakes, and then the sound of impact shatters all that—_

_ _

-

"NO!" My cry is muffled as I bury my face in my lace-trimmed pillow. "I won't go through this again," I mutter, almost inaudibly. "Get over it, June. He's gone…" My voice cracks on the last word, and I know I will never get over it. It will always be there, haunting the back of my mind.

I want to see him again. I want to touch him again. I want…

I don't think I know what I want anymore. My life is one confused mess of turmoil, and I hate it. I just want to go back to being happy with Sam again, without another care in the world but each other.

Sam is watching me now, I think. I feel that sometimes, and whether it's my imagination or not, I don't care. I think he misses me too.

Suicide. The word suddenly slices into my mind, searing it. I'm shocked that I would even consider such a thing. I'm June—bright, funny, silly June. I'm popular and have friends and family who love me.

And yet…

My heart just aches at the thought of continuing this way. I'm not a strong person alone… I need Sam for that. I am a half of a whole.

And I have to do what I have to do.

I'm coming, Sam.

-

June lay facedown on her pink bedspread motionlessly. She might have merely been sleeping, except that one thing marred the pristine perfection of the bedroom—dark red blood oozed with infinite slowness from her wrists.

Davis stared, not willing to accept what his eyes were telling him. It was the oddest thing, though… there was a small smile on her face, one of pure bliss.


End file.
